


This Isn't Die Hard!

by brightnail



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hostage Situations, M/M, Robbery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11720427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightnail/pseuds/brightnail
Summary: In which Sid and Geno are not John McClain and the Penguins are terrible damsels in distress.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> For anonymous, who asked for the prompt: "just die hard Sid/Geno." Not sure if you actually meant Die Hard or that you just really like Sid/Geno, but I decided to go with the first one. :-)

“No Geno,” Sidney tried to sound firm. “We are not sneaking into one of the suites upstairs.”

“But Sid,” Geno gave him a sad look, like Sidney wasn’t completely immune to his puppy eyes by this point. “Just little while. Been so busy. Not seen you all night.” The puppy eyes intensified.

The key was to stay stern and think of Mario’s Disappointed Dad face.

“Sid,” Geno said, raising Sidney’s hand to his mouth to kiss the side of his wrist.

That was just unfair, really.

“Five minutes,” Geno bargained, “Ten most.” He could clearly see that Sidney was weakening.

“But, we have the tables,” Sidney tried to reason weakly. “What kind of waiters leave their tables?”

Geno’s sad eyes turned up even further. “Dessert over. Tanger say he watch. Ten minutes Sid. Fifteen most.” Geno turned Sidney’s hand over and placed a small kiss against his palm. “Please,” he added.

Well, that was just unfair.

“Ten minutes?” Sidney asked a little unsteadily. He had really lost as soon as he let Geno pull him aside after leaving the dishes in the kitchen.

“Fifteen minutes,” Geno assured him, “twenty most.”

Sidney let himself be pulled along in Geno’s wake, like a pair of naughty school kids cutting class. He felt particularly irresponsible since this Skates and Plates Charity Night was easily three times the size of the normal one from previous years. He figured it either had to do with their back to back cup wins or it had something to do with the jewelry that was on display from Orr’s Jewelers: diamond necklaces, bracelets and rings for the ladies to try on and be photographed with, and Rolex watches and jewelry for the men. It seemed everyone was happy to play dress-up with a bunch of diamonds (of which Orr’s boasted the largest supply in Pittsburgh).

Sidney was happy to not be in on the details of the deal between the Penguins’ and Lemieux Foundations and Orr’s, as he was sure it was a headache to plan. It was easier just to show up in a tux and be a waiter for the night. A waiter who had now abandoned his tables.

Geno continued pulling Sidney higher up toward the executive suites at PPG Paints Arena. Sidney knew that Geno had a little bit of a thing for Sid in a tux, as well as a little bit of a thing for making out in almost public locations. Apparently combining his two kinks together was just too much for Geno to pass up.

“Fifteen minutes,” Sidney repeated to himself.

“Twenty minutes,” Geno agreed, “twenty-five most.”

“I know what you’re doing.” Sidney told him, noticing that the time kept getting extended a little more each time Geno said it.

“And you still let me do.” Geno said smugly. He was just lucky that Sidney had his own little bit of a thing for Geno when he was smug.

“You are the worst,” Sidney told him.

“Best,” Geno disagreed, pulling him into the executive box by his jacket lapels.

Sidney couldn’t really disagree since he was too busy kissing Geno by then. In fact, he was so busy kissing Geno that he completely missed the fact that Geno was subtle maneuvering them across the suite toward the windows that overlooked the Arena floor. That is, until his back met the window.

“Geno,” Sidney scolded, breaking the kiss and moving to back them away from the window. “Someone will see us.”

“Sid,” Geno said.

“No, I’m serious about this Geno. The suites aren’t that removed from the Arena floor. Someone could look up and see us. I’d rather not have half of Pittsburgh watching us make-out.”

“No, Sid, look.” Geno turned him around to face the window.

Down on the Arena floor, the guests were being separated to one side of the makeshift gala floor. They were being herded around by a group of men wearing black.

A group of men with guns.

As they watched, one of the men attending the gala said something to one of the men herding people, and he was answered with a hard fist to the face and a gun being pointed at the female guest next to him. The male guest made an obvious show of raising his hands in the air and backing up toward where the other guests were being made to sit on the ground.

“Sid,” Geno hissed, “We need to call police. Where your phone?”

“Do these pants look like they leave room for my phone? I left it in the car. Where’s your phone?”

Geno grimaced, “Car.”

“Okay,” Sidney said, thinking fast, “We just need to go down to the club lounge and use one of the phones there.”

Geno looked at him grimly, “Down one level closer to men with guns.”

Right, no problem.

Sidney and Geno snuck back out of the executive suites, being much more quiet than they had originally coming up. Then again, they would get a lot more than a disappointed look from Mario and a little embarrassment if they were caught.

Sidney couldn’t help but think that any little noise would betray them. The Arena was almost eerily silent without the sound of discussions from the guests or noise from the caterers in the kitchen and at the bar.

Geno and Sid were almost at the club bar when they heard the sound of footsteps coming into the Lexus Lounge.

Shit.

Geno grabbed Sidney’s hand, much differently than he did earlier that night, and dragged Sidney behind the bar with him. Not expecting the move, Sidney ended up toppling one of the glasses sitting on the bar, where one of the guests had been forced to leave it. The slight “click” that it made seemed to echo through the room.

The footsteps stopped, then sped up.

Sidney motioned for Geno to follow him and then crawled hastily behind the bar toward the kitchen. Sidney stood as soon as they rounded the corner into the kitchen, and Geno followed him. While Sidney moved toward the back of the kitchen toward the service entrance, Geno instead picked up a cutting board by the handle.

Sidney tried to signal to Geno a silent but clear, “What the hell are you doing you idiot.”

And Geno mimed hitting someone in the head with the chopping board. It couldn’t be more than coincidence that as Geno was miming the act, the actual owner of the footsteps came into view around the corner, catching sight of Sidney.

“Hey, you there!” He called, gun held in front of him and aimed at Sidney.

Sidney immediately held his hands in the air and stopped moving, “I’m just a waiter,” he said. “Please don’t shoot.” Sidney carefully kept his eyes away from Geno who was still stood by the counter and just out of view of the doorway.

The gunman stepped forward with his hands outstretched holding the gun. As soon as his hands passed through the doorway, Geno brought the cutting board down hard on his wrists, forcing the gun away from Sidney even as the man pulled the trigger in surprise. Sidney dove out of the way, having seen Geno prepare for the blow, and Geno followed through with a blow from the board to the gunman’s face. The man’s head snapped back and he crumpled to the floor.

“Holy shit, that worked,” Sidney said in shock as Geno kicked the gun away from the gunman’s hand.

“Sid,” Geno said, hurrying over to Sidney and checking on him even as he looked back at the doorway. They could hear alarmed sounds coming from the Arena where all the people were being held hostage.

“Shit, they heard the shot.” Sidney said, moving quickly to pick up the gun. Geno continued to hold his cutting board, but he also quickly grabbed a butcher knife on the counter. Sidney wasn’t exactly sure what either of them planned to do with a gun and a butcher knife, but at least they knew that Geno could brain someone with a cutting board if need be.

“Have to leave.” Geno said, motioning to the back of the kitchen that led to a service stairwell.

They left the gunman where he lay, unconscious, now without his gun.


	2. Chapter Two

Sidney and Geno quickly raced down the service stairs until they reached the emergency exit on the ground floor. They were incredibly aware that whoever was coming to check on the gunshot would no doubt find the unconscious gunman shortly. And there were only two exits from the kitchen – into the club lounge or into the service entrance. It wouldn’t take long for someone to check down two flights of stairs.

Once they reached the emergency exit, Geno immediately tried to shove the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. It was like it was completely locked in place, as the bar that should easily slide down to release the door bolt didn’t move.

“You have got to be kidding.” Sidney said despairingly. “That is definitely a fire hazard.”

“Don’t think men with guns care about hazard,” Geno pointed out reasonably.

“We don’t know this was them.” Sidney pointed out. “It could just be an employee that locked it or something.”

They didn’t have time to argue though, or to try to force the emergency exit open, because above them, the service entrance door from the kitchen banged open.

“Sid,” Geno gestured to the service elevator as he quickly pushed the up button. They were in luck (finally!) because the elevator was on the ground floor. Sidney followed Geno into the elevator. Geno pushed the button for the top floor and the door close button. Not a moment too soon either, as just when the doors were closing another of the gunmen came into view.

“Stop!” he shouted at them, but was too slow to stop the elevator doors from closing or the elevator from rising.

“Geno, he’s going to be waiting for us at the next floor!”

“Then we not go to next floor.” Geno said reasonably, pushing the emergency stop button.

Looking at the emergency stop button, Sidney had a realization. “Geno, we have an emergency phone on here!”

Geno’s eye widened in realization and he opened the access panel beneath the elevator buttons. And there it was, a bright red emergency line. Geno stepped back to let Sidney use the phone to call for help. Sidney was so relieved that once he picked up the phone, it took him a minute to realize what the lack of a dial tone meant.

Shit. There was no dial tone.

Sidney tried dialing 911, just in case he could somehow get through, but nothing happened.

Back to square one. Only this time it was worse, because they were trapped in an elevator between floors, and the armed men clearly knew where they were. Should they try to go back down to the ground floor and hope that the gunman already went up to the next floor, and then try to somehow break down the emergency exit? Or was it better to stay put for a bit, and then try to go to the top floor again, hoping that the gunman didn’t wait around for the elevator to move.

Geno, who had clearly watched more action movies than Sidney, was already a step ahead of him. He was poking around the elevator’s ceiling with his cutting board, looking for an emergency exit hatch. Seconds later he found one that was clearly latched closed from the outside.

“Sid, need you to shoot lock off.” Geno told him, like it was a completely normal request to make.

“Geno, I’m from Canada, not Texas. I don’t know how to shoot a lock off something. What if it ricochets? We’d be better off knocking it loose with the cutting board.”

Geno looked sadly at his cutting board. “Could damage it,” He said mournfully.

“It’s a block of wood,” Sidney said dryly. “It’ll be fine.”

It took a little effort, but fairly quickly Geno was able to force the exit hatch open. Where they planned to go from there, Sidney wasn’t sure. They could try to go back to the club lounge, maybe the Captain Morgan Club this time, on the other side of the arena. But chances were if the emergency phone was not working, then the phones in the clubs wouldn’t either.

Then Sidney remembered when they were taking pictures before the Skates and Plates event started, when it was just the boys getting photos in their tuxes together in the locker room. Sidney remembered Phil doing a quick face-time with his sister before he put his phone in his stall in order for the pictures to be done. Sidney recalled Phil complaining later that he had left his phone in the locker room.

They needed to go to the locker room. But that meant they needed to go up, so they could then make their way safely down later, in a less monitored way. Sidney quickly shared the information with Geno, who agreed. The next greatest problem seemed to be how Geno would attach his cutting board to himself so they could climb up the elevator shaft.

In the end, Geno decided to sacrifice his jacket in order to tie a sling around his back and shoulder for the cutting board. The bowtie was discarded as well, and Sidney decided to follow suit. He had at least become familiar enough with the gun to put the safety on it, and felt very thug as he tucked it into the top of his pants at his lower back (which was a very snug fit).

Geno gave Sidney a boost through the elevator’s emergency exit hatch, and then Sidney turned around and helped pull Geno up through it as well. The elevator shaft stretched up five floors above them, but it suddenly looked a lot higher from this end. There was a convenient ladder installed in the wall, but before Sidney and Geno could even think about utilizing it, the elevator started back up again.

The emergency exit hatch slammed shut when Sidney fell against it, and soon the elevator was stopping on the second floor. Sidney remained motionless when a voice shouted “Don’t move!” below them.

How did they get the elevator moving again, and how could they even see Sidney and Geno? The second answer was apparent a moment later: they couldn’t.

“There’s no body in here John.” It was a different voice from the one that shouted.

“Yes, thank you Tom, I do have eyes.” The one named John replied.

“Just checking. Are you sure there was even anyone in the elevator?” Tom asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. Look, they even left their ties.” John snapped, “It was more of those fucking waiters! Are we sure they aren’t all secretly bouncers in disguise?”

Tom sighed, “Fucking waiters. The only security staff listed was the three guards from Orr’s. There shouldn’t be anyone else.”

“Yeah?” John demanded. “Tell that to Frank who just got his face busted in. Or Jim who was accompanying that group to the bathroom. He still hasn’t woken up and he smells like urinal cakes. There are at least five waiters unaccounted for, possibly seven! This is such a shit-show.”

“Hey,” Tom soothed, “Just another hour and we’ll be out of here. We just need long enough to get Orr Jr. to bring the rest of the stock in exchange for his wife and the rest of these people. Once he gets back here you can shoot as many waiters as you want for all we care.”

“Maybe I will,” John said thoughtfully, making Sidney grind his teeth where he lay. He had about figured out where the two voices were coming from. He could probably shoot them both through the elevator’s ceiling before they had a chance to return fire. But could he do it? They were threatening his team, his family in everything but blood.

No. There was no guarantee that he would hit them before either of them could return fire and hit him or Geno. And even if he could, he didn’t know that he could actually fire on someone unless they were actively trying to kill someone he cared about, more than just talking about it.

He would wait.

“Isn’t there an exit in the ceiling of these things or something?” John asked. Sidney slowly let his hand creep toward the gun in his waist band. He could hear the sound of someone knocking on the ceiling panels, apparently seeing if they would move. He felt the thumps as someone knocked on the exit panel he was laying on. He carefully eased off the safety on the gun, and pressed it against the ceiling below him. He might not have any other choice now.

Before he could make a decision however, Tom halted his partner in crime. “You’ve seen too many action movies. Come on. They probably made it to the next floor then sent the elevator back down to confuse us. We’re going to have to sweep this huge fucking place top to bottom. Good thing the exits are sealed at least.”

The two men rode the elevator up one floor, before getting out to start searching, likely for them. Once the doors had closed below them, Geno helped Sidney back to his feet. “Sharing evil plan, is bad idea.” He told Sidney, with a slight quirk of his lips. He was obviously trying to lighten the atmosphere, but Sidney just felt cold. They only had an hour to get help, before the gunmen apparently wouldn’t need their hostages anymore.

They did learn something else important though. There were other waiters, other Penguins that had escaped. Their team was out there, in danger, but still giving the opposition hell. Just like it always was then, if slightly different circumstances.

“We need to go with the plan.” Sidney told him. “We get to the locker room, then we get Phil’s phone. We can decide our next step after that.”

All they could do is move forward.


	3. Chapter Three

Sidney and Geno ended up climbing the elevator shaft all the way to the top floor of the Arena. They needed to avoid the gunmen that were searching for them on the lower floors, but ultimately needed to somehow bypass them and reach the ground floor again to find Phil’s phone in the locker room. Sidney had never felt so much like a ninja as he did when they were trying to sneak down the stairwell on the east side of the Arena.

They were between the third and second floor when they heard the door for the first floor open. Geno made the decision to pull them toward the third floor rather than the second. They pulled the door open in a hurry, with Geno pushing Sidney through the door before rushing through it himself. Unfortunately, in his hurry to follow Sidney, his hand missed catching the door, and it slammed shut behind them.

Sidney and Geno shared a look of dismay, only for a second, before they were both sprinting down the hallway. They were near the third floor conference rooms. They had just rounded the corner when they heard behind them, “Someone is on the third floor! Head to the west end and cut them off.”

With little choice, Sidney chose one of the conference rooms at random and dived inside, Geno a step behind him.

“Where we go Sid?” Geno asked, looking around the room desperately. There were no convenient back exits to take this time. Sidney looked around as well. The room wasn’t very large, mostly filled with a conference table surrounded by chairs. The windows in the room did not even appear to open. Thinking of the situation in the elevator, Sidney looked up.

No way…

But, why not? What choice did they have?

Sidney scrambled on top of the conference table, reaching for the ceiling tiles in the drop ceiling above him. A quick gesture of pushing the tiles up showed most of the tiles to be free floating, but the ones toward the window had a small ridge of metal bracing. God he hoped that bracing could hold a 200lb hockey player, because there were no conveniently man sized air vents to crawl through.

Seeing what Sidney was doing, Geno quickly jumped up on the table as well. Sidney eased back the ceiling tile and grabbed the metal bracing above it, hauling himself up with a strain to his arms and kicking his legs. Things looked a little better once he was up high enough, as there were metal beams running the full length of the building to brace the floor above them.

Sidney transitioned over onto the higher beams so that Geno could pull himself up behind him. As Geno was pulling himself up however, his jacket-sling came untied and the cutting board slammed down to the table below him.

“Irina!” Geno gasped down at his cutting board. His cutting board which he had named. Of course he had.

“G, leave it!” Sidney hissed at him.

It was too late though, because just then the door slammed open and one of the gunman came in. “Freeze!” the gunman said, no doubt pointing his gun straight at Geno. Sidney wished he could see what was happening.

“I’m waiter! Don’t shoot!” Geno said, in a mimic of what Sidney had said to the gunman in the kitchen.

“I can see exactly what you are, you bastard.” The gunman snarled. Sidney realized that the voice was familiar. He was sure it was the man from the elevator, John, who was talking about shooting waiters.

Fuck, Sidney didn’t have a choice. He was actually going to have to shoot the man. As Sidney reached into his waistband for the gun however, he over balanced himself, losing his grip on the metal beam, and falling through the ceiling tiles.

Fortunately, it wasn’t too far of a fall, and John was nice enough to cushion Sidney’s landing. Sidney groaned and rolled off of the gunman who was moaning in pain. As soon as Sidney rolled clear Geno jumped off the table and brought the cutting board crashing down on John’s head. John dropped back to the ground in an unconscious slump.

“Irina 2: Gunmen 0,” Geno said happily, pulling Sidney up from his pile of ceiling tiles. “Good aim Sid.” Geno told him proudly.

“Thanks,” Sidney winced, back and ribs aching. “You too.”

“Smart,” Geno continued, “to take out bad guy with huge ass.”

Sidney punched Geno in the shoulder, hard.

Geno winced, “Was compliment. Always know is best ass. Now it save my life.”

Geno went back to the unconscious John and stole his gun. Sidney swore he heard him mutter a quiet, “Irina, Anna - Anna, Irina” of introduction between his new gun and his cutting board, but really didn’t want to know at that point.

“We need to get back to the stairs while the other man searching for us is busy.” Sidney said, trying to walk off the pain in his ribs and back. He had a feeling he would have some pretty impressive bruises under his tux.

Geno nodded in agreement and the two of them hurried back to the stairs. If they were in luck, Tom would still be making his way to the room from the west end of the Arena, buying them plenty of time to get down to the locker room on the ground floor.

For once, it appeared that their luck was holding, as they made it back to the stairwell and down to the ground floor without incident. From there, they had to be extra careful however, since this was also the floor that the majority of the gunmen would be on, if they stayed to guard the guests and staff on the Arena floor.

Sidney wondered just how many men there were. By his count, he and Geno had taken out two men, and the other Penguins had taken out at least one more. With Tom searching for the “missing waiters” there couldn’t be many more gunmen wondering about.

Geno and Sidney knew their way around the ground floor, and all the best nooks and crannies to hide in, since they used them often enough for quick, elicit make outs after a particularly good game.  They soon were letting themselves into the locker room, seconds away from getting Phil’s phone.

And they weren’t alone.

Also sneaking into the locker room was the rest of the escaped Penguins.


	4. Chapter Four

For a moment, Sidney and Geno just stared at their teammates in surprise, then Conor let out a soft, “Sid!” and relief made everyone’s shoulders slump. No doubt everyone had thought that they ran into another gunman before it registered just who it actually was.

Sidney shared relieved pats on the back and quiet words with Tanger, Phil, Olli, Conor, and Jake. He was glad at the evidence that at least five of his teammates were alright, though it only increased his worry for the rest of the team that was no doubt still under the gunmen’s watchful eyes.

“How did you get away?” Sidney asked.

“They were taking us in rotations to piss.” Tanger told him. “When it was our turn, Olli made like he was nervous and pissed on the guy’s shoe. While he was distracted, we jumped him and bashed his head in on the urinal. I don’t think he’ll be walking that off any time soon.”

Olli muttered, “It was a real accident. I’ve never tried to pee while someone was watching, let alone holding a gun on me.”

“You should pretend it was purposeful, just for future reference. It would sound much cooler.” Conor advised.

“After that, we made our way here to get Phil’s phone. They took all of ours when they first came in. And the phones for the rest of the building are turned off.”

“Yes, we found that too.” Geno agreed.

“We can talk more after we call the police.” Sidney said, reeling the team in before they could continue the discussion.

Phil nodded in agreement and went hunting for his phone. Sid was no encouraged be his, “Oh no.”

“What?” Jake asked, clearly worried.

“My battery’s dead.” Phil responded.

“Of course it is,” Sidney added tiredly. It was just their luck.

“Need new plan,” Geno told Sidney.

“I know we do,” Sidney responded a little shortly, aggravated at the latest problem.

“We could fight,” Conor said. “There are seven of us, and there were only six of them.”

Geno looked far too interested in this option. He was lightly caressing his cutting board. “Six?”

“Well, five now, not counting the guy we took out in the bathroom,” Jake added.

“Sid,” Geno said hopefully.

“G,” Sidney returned flatly.

“Only three left! Maybe two,” Geno said.

“I know math isn’t a specialty of mine,” Tanger cut in, “But six minus one is five.”

“We… may have run into a couple of the men ourselves.” Sidney explained.

Geno patted his cutting board proudly. “Irena take care of.”

“Not alone,” Sidney pouted.

Geno patted Sidney’s butt as well, “Yes, ass help too.”

“I don’t know if I’m old enough to hear this story,” Jake offered, looking incredibly intrigued despite his words.

Geno opened his mouth to share the story, but Sidney cut him off. “The important part to know is that at least two more of the gunmen were unconscious when we left them, and a third one was looking for us on the third floor. That means that in all likelihood, there are only two men left with the hostages.”

“Yeah, but they have hostages.” Phil pointed out reasonably.

“We have a gun,” Conor pointed out also.

“Three guns,” Geno corrected. “We have guns too, Anna and Sasha.”

Sidney was derailed from what he was going to say, “Wait, did you name my gun? That isn’t fair. You can’t just name my gun. It’s mine.”

“Sid not name gun, so I name Sasha,” Geno said.

“My gun is not named Sasha,” Sid argued.

“Shhhh,” Geno hushed him, “You upset him.”

“Refocus here,” Tanger interrupted, before Sidney could ask why his gun was male when both Geno’s gun and his cutting board were female. Oh god, what had this crazy night brought him to? Sid refocused on a plan.

“We need a way to make sure that any extra gunmen that are currently conscious won’t be in the Arena with the hostages. Then we need a way to approach the remaining man without him harming any of the people there.”

Olli raised his hand, as though this was a class. Sidney nodded his head at him to speak. “I know how to build a bomb with some cleaning supplies from the supply closet. I could set it off in the kitchen as a distraction.”

“We can’t blow up the Arena!” Sidney said, horrified. Then he paused. “How big of a bomb?”

Olli sort of shrugged his shoulders. “Not… too big. I don’t think. Not so big that it would destroy anything more than the room it’s in.”

Most of the guys looked at Olli impressed.

In the end, it was decided that there would be two bombs, one in the Lexus Lounge’s kitchen and one in the Captain Morgan Club’s kitchen. Olli would set them both up, with help from Phil, Jake, and Conor. They would set off the first bomb in the kitchen of the Lexus Lounge to draw any extra gunmen away from the hostages. Then they would set the next bomb off in the kitchen of the Captain Morgan Club five minutes later to distract the remaining gunman. Tanger, Geno, and Sidney would then take him out while he was distracted by the second bomb.

“Please don’t completely destroy our Arena,” Sidney just about begged Olli before they parted ways.

“Where did you learn how to build a bomb from cleaning supplies anyway?” Conor asked.

Olli shrugged, “Internet.”

This was going to end so badly.


	5. Chapter Five

Sidney crouched down in the tunnel leading from the visitor’s locker room. He was currently out of view of the Arena floor, but could see the curtains that had been set up for the Skates and Plates dinner. The curtain bisected the Arena floor, cordoning the Arena off halfway, with many round tables set up on the end with the stage for band to play on that night.

The plan was, after the other Penguins set off the first bomb, Geno, Tanger, and Sidney would move from the tunnel into the Arena, behind the curtain. Then, when the second bomb went off, they would take out the last gunman. Sid still wasn’t incredibly clear on what “take out” constituted. He hoped it might mean tackling the guy and bashing him on the head with Irena. He was worried though, that it might mean having to shoot the man. Sidney wasn’t even sure what kind of shot he was, since he’d never even fired a handgun before.

Can’t be much worse that shooting a puck, right?

Shit.

Sidney looked down at his watch, counting down the time for Olli and the others to set off the first bomb. They had synchronized their watches before splitting up. Right now, Conor and Phil should be setting up the second bomb, while Olli and Jake prepared to detonate the first one.

The explosion, when it came, was much bigger than anticipated.

The entire building shook. Sidney could hear glass shattering all throughout the Arena in a large concussive blast. The very foundation of the building seemed to vibrate. There was screaming coming from the hostages in the Arena.

God, Sidney hoped that Olli and Jake had gotten far enough away.

He couldn’t think about that now though. They had to get in place for the next explosion. On the plus side, the police would certainly be notified now.

Geno, Tanger, and Sidney ran out onto the Arena floor, crouched and silent among the screaming as they made it to their station behind the curtain. The screaming was calming down now, but Sidney could hear soft crying, hopefully just from fear. He didn’t think that the glass had reached the Arena’s center floor, but he couldn’t be sure.

Sidney noticed an ominous groaning above them, coming from the jumbotron, which was hanging precariously. Great, one more thing to worry about.

They reached the curtain with no trouble, and Sidney peaked around the side of it. He could see the hostages all sat on the floor by the stage, at the far end of the Arena. The distraction ploy had certainly worked, because there was only one gunman left, standing over the hostages and looking pretty nervous while doing so. He was pacing a line in front of them, looking anxiously at two unconscious gunman and the frightened hostages.

Only two?

“I’ve got you fuckers now,” a disturbingly familiar voice said, just on the other side of the curtain. It was the gunman John again. Apparently he hadn’t been knocked out long enough. “Did you think you were that slick, coming in here? This is our house now – my house. You aren’t anything here any more.”

“Don’t shoot. We’re just waiters,” Sidney began.

“Are you kidding me? Just fucking waiters? Bullshit!” John motioned to a large banner that… yeah, that was Sidney’s face about a story tall. “You guys are fucking hockey players.”

“We are,” Geno confirmed. “Also have lots of money we can give to you.”

“Fuck that,” John said viciously. “Fuck the money. All I want right now is to shoot all three of you. Do you know how much planning this took, how much shit you screwed up? No. I’m going to fucking kill all three of you, and then I’m going to fucking shoot all the rest of your team. You’ll be nothing but a fucking smear on the floor when I’m done with you.”

Sidney counted the time down in his head. Had it been five minutes yet?

Right then, the second explosion went off, again rocking the building to its foundations. Or more importantly, to its rafters. Sidney grabbed Geno and Tanger and dragged them through the curtain and out of the way of the falling jumbotron.

John wasn’t quite as lucky.

Apparently it was just his day to have things fall from the ceiling on him.

Sidney mentally winced but didn’t allow himself to focus on it or look back. He pulled his gun out, fully prepared to shoot the last gunman if need be.

But he didn’t need to.

The last gunman was currently being sat on by Rusty, and appeared quite badly beaten. Shultzy stood nearby, along with Horny and Coler who were looking at their knuckles and comparing abrasions. Sidney almost felt a bit disappointed that the other Penguins didn’t wait for them to come to the rescue. Almost. But not quite. Too much of Sidney was just relieved that they were alright.

“You bastards,” Another familiar voice said, as the gunman Tom stepped into the Arena. He had obvious tears in his eyes as he glanced quickly at the smoking remains of the jumbotron. “I’ll kill you all!” He raised his gun, aiming at Geno who was closest to him.

Sidney didn’t even think. He raised his own gun, sighted, and fired within a fraction of a second. The bullet found the hand that Tom was holding his gun in and hit him through the palm, causing him to drop the gun. A second later, Tanger had him at gunpoint as well.

“Freeze,” Tanger said coolly. Tom held his hand to his chest but otherwise did not move.

Geno approached him almost casually and bashed his head with his cutting board. He immediately dropped to the ground. Geno was getting quite good at that.

“Irena 3: Gunmen 0,” Sidney found himself saying.

Geno beamed at him.

It was only minutes later that the police and fire trucks arrived. The police were informed of what happened and immediately set out to find the final gunman, but were unable to do so. They believed that the final man had fled after the tides turned against him.

Sidney was relieved to see Olli, Jake, Conor, and Phil all in one piece, just being treated for a little smoke inhalation.

Mr. Orr was rescued from his hostage taker, still at his store where the gunman surrendered before the police needed to use force. Mr. Orr was incredibly thankful that his wife and the other hostages were alright, and promised a sizable donation to the Penguins’ and Lemieux Foundations.

In the end, none of the hostages were hurt. And the violence that took place at the charity event certainly didn’t harm the Penguins’ reputation at all. If anything, the entire situation made the whole city love their Penguins even more than they already did. They were heroes. The most harm that was done was what had happened to the Arena itself. Overall, the damage to the Arena would take a few weeks to repair, though the kitchens would need to be overhauled.

Happily, this meant no one would notice one certain missing cutting board.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts are always welcome and appreciated.


End file.
